


Restoration

by LadyDarkrose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28060887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDarkrose/pseuds/LadyDarkrose
Summary: Dean’s fingers curled more tightly around Baby’s steering wheel, his toes flexing to press the pedal a little further to the floor. The Impala’s engine gave a low growl in response to his urging, the speedometer’s needle pushing closer to 80. Four more hours to Taos, and Dean couldn’t get there fast enough.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 21





	1. The Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be a fix-it for the Supernatural finale, and then some. Not sure just yet how long this fic will be, kind of going where it takes me.

Mile markers flew by as Baby sped along westbound US-40, halfway into the  9.5-hour road trip that he’d unexpectedly found himself taking. He’d pulled into a rest area about 50 miles back to grab a quick nap when he’d found his eyes were starting to blur along with the stripes on the pavement. He’d only managed about 45 minutes before his eyes popped back open and his mind urged him to get back on the road. A cup of crappy vending machine coffee and a bag of M&Ms (and yeah, ok, a trip to the can) later he was back in Baby and flying down the highway.

_ “Hello, Dean....” _

The phone had nearly dropped from Dean’s hand at the sound of that glorious voice speaking the greeting he’d heard more damn times than he could count over the years.

_ “Cas?! Cas, is that really you?! How?! Where the hell are you, man?!”  _ His heart was in his throat. Cas was alive?! He wanted to believe it so bad, was desperate to believe, but it’d been weeks since that damned black goo that called itself The Empty had come through the wall of the Bunker and dragged Cas away, weeks since Castiel had tearfully confessed to fucking LOVING him seconds before sacrificing his life to save Dean and the rest of the world. No big deal. No reason to have maybe told him SOONER and not under such dire circumstances. Fuck, maybe give him more than a few seconds to process. Give him the chance to respond. 

No amount of begging, threats, pleading or prayer had elicited so much as a response from Jack, much less him bringing the Angel home. Dean was of course thrilled for Sam that Eileen had come back, and the two of them had been joined at the hip ever since, leaving Dean to his own devices for the most part. 

It was for the best, really. He wasn’t exactly a party to be around lately. 

_“It’s... it’s a long story, Dean. But, yes. It’s me. Really me.”_ Cas’ voice didn’t have its usual strength, its usual confidence. Instead, it sounded almost... tentative. Nervous. _“I’m... I’m in Taos, New Mexico. Can you possibly come get me?”_

_ “Taos?? That’s  _ _ gotta _ _ be at least 500 miles from here!”  _ Dean was incredulous as he rose from his bed where he’d been surfing on his laptop and paced across the room. _ “What, the kid couldn’t drop you off where you got picked up??”  _

_ “As I said, it’s a long story,”  _ Cas had sighed _. “I’m sorry, Dean. It’s too much to ask. Never mind, I’ll... find another way.” _

_ “What? Hey, no, Cas, no, I’ll be there. Ok? Of course, I’ll come. What’s the address?”  _ Dean shuffled through his desk to find a pen and paper, cradling the phone between his shoulder and jaw as he jotted down the information.  _ Casa Gallina.  _ S ounded like the kind of dive they’d spent the better part the last fifteen years living in while on the road. _ “Ok, got it. Just, sit tight, Cas. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” _

The whole phone call played through Dean’s head again and again, leaving way too many questions unanswered. Like, with Jack’s promise to restore the Angels to their former glory, wings and all, why Cas couldn’t get himself to the Bunker (Dean was afraid he already knew the answer to that one). Or why Jack had decided to drop Cas in fucking  _ Taos _ , of all places. But if he thought about it, Dean couldn’t help but connect the why  of the former to the why of latter, and that thought caused a little hitch in his breath that he figured was better left unassumed.

Jaw clenching, Dean’s fingers curled more tightly around Baby’s steering wheel, his toes flexing to press the pedal a little further to the floor. The Impala’s engine gave a low growl in response to his urging, the speedometer’s needle pushing closer to 80. Four more hours to Taos, and Dean couldn’t get there fast enough.


	2. The Quickening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he’d been able to set the phone down, a text from Dean popped onto the screen. Cas’ tongue darted across his lips as he thumbed over the message to open it. 
> 
> *Less than an hour*
> 
> This bit of information caused several of Cas’ heartbeats to skip, and he had to draw in a deep breath, holding it for several moments before slowly letting it escape between his lips. 
> 
> *Ok. I’ll have coffee ready*
> 
> *Sweet. You really are an angel 😉*

The sun hadn’t yet begun to create its colorful masterpiece for the day when Big Daddy, Casa Gallina’s resident Barred Rock rooster, announced its impending arrival. No doubt he had taken his spot on his favorite roost – a rough-hewn wooden fence post - where he was able to easily watch over his girls, three-dozen fat, sassy hens who called the hotel’s grounds their home. 

Cas had grown fond of the large rooster and his throaty early morning wakeup calls of  _ urr _ _ -ah-URRRR!  _ _ Urr _ _ -ah-URRR!  _ He would miss them once he left this place, be it with Dean or on his own. Either way, the time had come to move on from his little casita  sanctuary .

A glance at the clock on his cellphone confirmed that Big Daddy was right on time – 6:30am. Same time each and every morning for the past two weeks. The rooster’s regularity had proven a comfort to Cas, a familiar routine that helped him adjust to this new...normal. 

Before he’d been able to set the phone down, a text from Dean popped onto the screen. Cas’ tongue darted across his lips as he thumbed over the message to open it.

_ Less than an hour. _

This bit of information caused several of Cas’ heartbeats to skip, and he had to draw in a deep breath, holding it for several moments before slowly letting it escape between his lips.

_ Ok. I’ll have coffee ready. _

_ Sweet. You really are an angel  _ _ 😉 _

A chuff of humorless laughter escaped before he could stop it. 

_ See you soon. _

Closing down the messaging program, Cas rose from the bed in which he’d had little if any sleep that night, tucked the phone into the pocket of his jeans and adjusted the hem of the t-shirt he wore. It still felt strange to be clad in anything other than his suit and trench coat. But that was something he was determined to never put on again. Instead, he slid his arms into the sleeves of a cardigan that was hand-knit by a local artisan, using wool harvested from alpacas raised a mere stone’s throw from this very spot. Fingers worked steadily to fasten the buttons that ran down half the length of the sweater, bare feet softly  _ pit-patting  _ against the tiled floor of the kitchen.

It had only been a month, maybe slightly longer, since Cas had last seen Dean. But so much had happened in that timeframe that it felt like an entire lifetime ago. Billie was literally pounding down the door to get to them, to destroy them. Her only wish before her own demise was to see Dean dead once and for all, no coming back. God was their enemy now; He wouldn’t go against the natural order of things to bring him back. Not this time. 

It had been in those moments, of Dean’s feelings of defeat and despair, that Cas had experienced an Epiphany. He could save Dean, and it would be so simple. All he had to do was... speak, speak words that had danced through his mind and nearly flowed from his tongue so very many times over the past decade. All he had to do was speak his Truth. Upon hearing it, The Empty would be summoned, because these words would trigger in Cas the most intense, singular moment of pure joy that he could ever imagine. Dean would grieve, certainly, be hurt by watching the eternal celestial being come and claim the Seraph he called his best friend, his  _ brother _ . But he’d live. He’d  _ survive.  _ And in the end, that’s all that mattered to Castiel, Angel of the Lord, who’d been sent to protect this Righteous Man. Dean needed to live to fight another day, to prevent Chuck from burning down the Earth and all of humanity with it. It was Castiel’s  _ job _ to save Dean. It was his  _ duty _ . His privilege. And so, the Angel had spoken words he never expected Dean to hear, of how this special, amazing man had had such an incredible impact on him, a  _ multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent _ that he’d been forever changed. The dutiful, obedient soldier of Heaven had rebelled against his own kind and chosen to throw his lot in with humanity. 

All for the love of one man. 

With a sigh, Cas raked his fingers back through sleep-tousled hair, leaving it even more disheveled, and, reaching the fridge, he tugged a door open and gazed inside, _Should make breakfast_ , he thought absently. Dean would have been in a hurry to get there. He wouldn’t have wanted to waste time stopping to eat. But cooking wasn’t high amongst Cas’ list of acquired skills just yet. He knew enough to do very basic things, enough to keep a human body nourished and functioning. But actually _creating_ something, like the huge pancake breakfasts Dean seemed to love best, well. That was beyond his skill set.

From the shelves and drawers of the fridge he drew out the basic ingredients for a decent breakfast – eggs, bacon, juice, ground coffee. Arms full, he bumped the fridge door closed with his hip and deposited his haul on the counter beside the small stove. Turning towards the fridge again, he snagged a cellophane bag of sliced bread he’d purchased from a local bakery, for toast, lamenting that he’d forgotten to pick up more jelly. Dean would probably want jelly for his toast.

Doing his best to clear his mind, Cas set about preparing the simple meal, frying the bacon in a pan on the stovetop, then the eggs in the same pan once the bacon was crisp and the fat rendered. That was a tip he’d learned from YouTube, which he was finding a great resource for basic ‘life skills’ that young adults needed when on their own for the first time. Never mind that Cas was far from young. Or, at least he hadn’t been. Middle-aged now, perhaps.

The final drops of coffee were passing from the filter into the pot below when the low, familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine could be heard drawing closer. Somewhere in the yard, Big Daddy gave another three calls of  _ ur-ah-URRRR! _ in protest of the loud intruder. 

His heart racing, Cas slid the breakfast-loaded plates into the low-set oven to keep warm, then made his way out of the adobe casita’s front door and onto the wooden front porch, watching as Dean climbed from the sleek, black car and turned to face him.


	3. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turning to face the small casita Cas had directed him to, Dean’s heart came to a dead stop for several seconds before thundering violently back to life. Cas stood mere yards from him, looking... better than he had any fucking right to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! Shoulda known better than to start a new fic during the holidays! This is a long one, but these two had a lot they needed to say :-)

Squinting as he stepped out into the bright New Mexico morning light, Dean stretched his limbs after climbing from Baby. A quick glance around dispelled his notion that Cas had been holed up in some dive. This place definitely had that funky, artsy vibe Taos was known for and was way more luxe than they’d been used to. Huh.

Turning to face the small casita Cas had directed him to, Dean’s heart came to a dead stop for several seconds before thundering violently back to life. Cas stood mere yards from him, looking... better than he had any fucking right to.  _ Jesus Christ _ . Cas, alive, standing there with a hopeful, anticipatory expression and every thought, every emotion Dean had spent the drive shoving down came flooding back.  _ Knowing you has changed me.  _ You  _ changed me, Dean. I love you. _

Tears pricked at his eyes as he tried to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat. Without a second thought, Dean closed the distance between the two of them in a few quick steps.

Tear-glossed eyes met Cas’ for a moment before Dean’s hands rose to cradle the other man’s face in their palms. His head inclined, mouth claiming Cas’ with a level of hunger and desperation that caught himself off guard. Quickly, warm hands mirrored his own, holding Dean’s face as the kiss deepened. Within moments, Cas had melted into their embrace, thumbs tracing their way along Dean’s heavily stubbled jawline, returning the kiss fervently.

The need for a proper breath finally forced them to part, but Dean refused to allow any space to form between them. Still cradling the Angel’s tear-dampened cheeks in his palms, he pressed his forehead to Cas’, voice thick with emotion. “I  shoulda done this a long damn time ago,” he confessed, sniffling. “I love you, Cas” he breathed out, laughing at the absurd amount happiness and relief he felt for  _ finally _ being able to say those words. “Fuck, I love you so much, more than I ever knew it was possible for me to love anyone. And I’m sorry for not getting it sooner. I’m sorry for not having the balls to tell you how I felt, even if I wasn’t sure you could really understand.” Cas silenced him with another kiss, softer, more tender, thumbs brushing away the tracks of tears that had flowed so readily down Dean’s face.

“I know, Dean,” he offered when the kiss finally broke. “I’m sorry as well. It seems neither of us had the...  _ testicular fortitude _ to act on our feelings.” A wry smile played across Cas’ lips at his use of the euphemism, and Dean couldn’t help but chuff a soft laugh at that.

“ Lookit that,” he teased gently, hands reaching to take Cas’, their fingers twining. “I think you’re finally getting the hang of it!”

“Perhaps,” Cas averred, giving the hands that he held a light squeeze. “C’mon. I made breakfast. I can’t promise how good it’ll be, but I tried.”

Once inside the small house, Cas directed him to a small dining table and told him to sit. Dean did as he was told, glancing around the room and gave a low whistle. “Gotta say, Cas, didn’t expect to find you in the lap of luxury here. Figured you were in some roadside motel.”

Chuckling, Cas set down a plate and glass of juice before Dean then reached onto the counter to fetch a freshly poured cup of coffee that he immediately pressed into Dean’s eagerly awaiting hand. Dean murmured his thanks around his first sip, watching as Cas settled in with his own meal. “Yes, well. When I was given the choice, I was tempted to settle for such a place,” the dark-haired man conceded. “Jack wouldn’t have it. Said I’d spent enough time in places like that.  So I ended up... here. It’s been a nice change, I have to admit.”

“I’m sure,” Dean agreed, tucking into his breakfast. For being a novice at this whole cooking thing, everything tasted amazing. “Could definitely get used to having a real home. The Bunker’s nice, don’t get me wrong but....”

“It lacks the warmth that makes a living space a home,” Cas completed the thought, leaving Dean to nod, chewing his mouthful of bacon. “The Bunker was never intended to be a home, despite the living quarters. While comfortable, it’s more like military barracks.”

“Yeah, exactly. Been thinking of finding another place, to be honest. He hasn’t said so, but I know Sam is looking for a place for himself and Eileen.” Dean didn’t even try to hide the mix of sadness and relief that tinged his voice at this admission. 

“That’s understandable,” Cas offered softly, eyes on Dean’s even as he swirled a bit of bread through the soft yolk of his eggs before popping it into his mouth. “Fifteen years is a long time to postpone one’s dreams. He had a brief taste of it when he was with Amelia; he knows what he’s been missing out on.” 

Dean only nodded at this, watching as Cas finally popped the piece of yolk-soaked toast into his mouth. It surprised him a little that the Angel had made himself a plate. As a celestial being, he didn’t require food to keep the vessel going. On occasion, he’d done so to blend in, when in front of humans who knew nothing of who or what he was and it would be considered strange not to eat. But he’d never enjoyed doing so.

“Cas, you don’t have to do that, you know,” he pointed out, brow furrowing a bit. “You don’t have to put on a show for me. I know it just tastes like molecules to you.” 

The change in Cas’ expression was almost immediate; his eyes lowered to watch as he nudged at his eggs with his fork, tongue moving slowly over his lips before the utensil was sat down. With a sigh, he settled further back into his chair and reached for his coffee. “That used to be the case, before I came back,” he admitted, eyes slowly raising to meet Dean’s.

The rest of the words had gone unspoken, but they still hung in the air between them, in that glance. 

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re human now? The Empty made giving up your grace a condition of letting you go?”

Drinking deeply from his cup of coffee, Cas sat it back down on the table then nudged his breakfast aside. “It’s more complicated than that, Dean. You’re right, I’m human now. But it had nothing to do with The Empty or its petty demands.”

Nudging his own mostly empty plate to the side, Dean leaned forward, arms folded atop the table. “Talk to me,” he urged gently, and when Cas rested his arms atop the table as well, Dean let his hand slide across the narrow distance, fingers grazing lightly across the back of his hand. “What happened? How did you end up here, of all places? Why didn’t you come back to The Bunker?”

The swirl of emotion that passed over Cas’ face as he thought about all that had passed in however long it’d been since Jack sprang him from The Empty made Dean’s heart ache for him. If he thought he’d been pained by Cas’ troubles  _ before,  _ those feelings had only been intensified in the hour or so since Dean had been able to tell the now former Angel that he loved him too.

“I’ve... kind of lost track of time a bit,” he began. “It’s been a month, maybe a little more than that, since Jack came to The Empty. Things had quieted down there, for the most part, once I arrived. As per my deal with It, I didn’t fight when It brought me in.”

“Right,  cause It had held up It’s end of the bargain,” Dean agreed, slipping  from his chair to grab the pot of coffee, refilling both of their cups before depositing the empty carafe in the sink. 

“Exactly,” Cas nodded before softly thanking Dean for the refill. “So,  It taunted me, of course, like I knew It would. But I ignored it and just... went to sleep. It felt like I’d been down for an eternity, but it was only a week or two before I felt myself drifting back to wakefulness. I could hear Jack’s voice,” he added with a soft smile.

Dean grinned at this information. “Kid kicked the door down and demanded your release.” This wasn’t a question but a statement of what he assumed was fact. But Cas just gave a little shake of his head.

“That would be overstating things just a bit,” he corrected, though with a little smile. “He was... negotiating with The Empty. Never again would He disrupt Its sleep, if only It would return all of the Angels to Him.”

A long pause followed as Dean waited for more, though Cas had paused to take another drink from his mug. “...and?”

“Not and,” Cas smirked, “or. Return the Angels or Jack would ‘make it loud’ again. The Empty got very agreeable very quickly. Seems It had only just finished getting everyone back to sleep after the  _ last _ time Jack made it loud.”

Brows furrowed as a thought came to Dean. “So, wait. Jack took back... _ all _ of the Angels?”

“Not Lucifer,” Cas corrected. “Actually, the only Archangel He brought back was Gabriel, because, as He put it, He ‘Really likes’ His uncle and wants him around.” Dean couldn’t help but smile at the thought of this as well as the soft smile that now played over Cas’ lips at the memory.

“But the Seraphs? And the others?” Dean gently prodded, lest the man across from him  become lost in those thoughts.

“All of them,” Cas nodded. “Even Naomi. Even others who fell with Lucifer way back in the day. Jack felt He needed all  hands on deck, so to speak. Big plans He and Amara had to rebuild Heaven, make it what it ought to have been all along.”

“Which is?” Dean asked, one brow arching.

“Paradise,” the former Angel answered simply. “No more individual little rooms where people relive their best memories for all eternity. Now it’s one great open space, everyone together. It’s much like Earth, really, just... there’s no want. No need. Everything is provided for.”

That brought Dean up short. “Wait, what? Everyone’s together? So, you can just like...hangout with anyone who’s there?” Cas nodded.

“Anyone who’s made it to Heaven, yes,” came the confirmation with a reassuring smile. “She’s there, Dean. Mary. So are... most of those we’ve lost along the way. Bobby. The  Harvelles . Pamela.”

There was a long moment as Dean processed this in silence, eyes focused on the table as the idea of it played through his mind, being able to see all of these people he loved again, when his time came. Then, with a lick of his lips he glanced back to Cas. “My dad?” he asked quietly, not sure what exactly it was he felt as Cas shook his head.

“Not him. That shouldn’t be a surprise,” Cas spoke gently. “With everything he did to you, to Sam... there’s no way he could’ve been allowed into Heaven. I’m sorry”

“Don’t be,” Dean responded, jaw tight, teeth clenched so hard they might’ve cracked if he didn’t force them apart. “I never want to see that sick son of a bitch again. I’d throw myself back into the Pit before I shared space with that fucker ever again.” Pressing his eyes shut for a moment, he drew in a deep breath, holding it a beat before letting it go and adjusted in his seat.

“Ok. Sorry ‘bout that. So, Jack bails the majority of the Angels from Mega Hell and everyone has their Kumbaya moment, making Heaven great again.” He paused, shaking his head, clearly seeing a disconnect that Cas hadn’t come out with yet. “How do you go from Family Reunion to human and hiding out in Taos?”

Cas lowered his head, discomfort with this part of his story written all over his demeanor. “It was less ‘Family Reunion’, more ‘who invited HIM?’” The little catch in his voice as he confessed this made Dean’s heart clench and ache. Sliding his hand across the table to take Cas’ hand in his own and hold it comfortingly seemed like the right thing to do. Somehow, though, it only served to give the tears well more quickly in Cas’ eyes. “They... they still held me in contempt for, well, pretty much everything I’ve done in the last dozen or so years.” 

Chuffing a forced breath of humorless laughter, Cas let his fingertips trace idly over the back of Dean’s hand, letting his gaze settle on them, as if not looking at Dean directly would make it easier to get the words out. “The things I did while at war with Raphael. Declaring myself to be the new God. Killing... God, Dean. Killing  _ hundreds _ of my brothers and sisters. Being complicit in the Fall. And, of course, my worst, my deepest sin. My rebellion against my programming, falling in love with you.”

A lump he couldn’t swallow past formed in Dean’s throat at hearing the pain and emotion in Cas’ voice. When he finally found his own voice, it was thick and raw. “Those bastards had no clue of what was going on back then,” he forced out. “What we were up against. You did what you believed was  _ right _ , Cas. Everything you ever did was in an attempt to make Heaven  _ better.  _ Shit, even  _ Chuck  _ didn't try to do that!”

“Yeah,” came the response, more a soft exhale than a truly spoken word. “But you know what they say about good intentions.” Cas shook his head as if to clear it of the memories his words had evoked. His thumb slid across Dean’s knuckles and damned if his heart didn’t  _ flutter _ for the softness of the touch. “Finally, I realized that my part in Heaven’s story needed to end for my siblings to find peace, to do the work Jack needed them to do.”

“You asked Jack to take your Grace from you?” When he was given confirmation of this, Dean shook his head. “Jesus, Cas,” he sighed, not yet relinquishing his hold on the hand between his own. “You gave it all up, everything you are, everything you’ve ever  _ been _ just to placate those ungrateful assholes?!”

  
“No,” Cas answered quickly, head finally rising, those sky-blue eyes meeting his, and damned if Dean’s heart didn’t stop again for a few beats. Did telling Cas he loved him really do _this_ to him?? “Not just for them, Dean. For _me_ too. I’ve been nothing but a soldier of Heaven, a warrior, since the day I was created. I’ve fought every battle set before me. I’ve been a good soldier. But I’m _tired_ now. I feel like I’ve spent a decade doing everything I could just to _survive.”_ Something changed in Cas, as if a dam had burst. He sat straighter in his chair, eyes still fixed to Dean’s, hand shifting to let their fingers twine together. The fear and doubt that had tinged his words before were gone. “I don’t want to just survive anymore, Dean. I want to _live_. I want a _life_. And I want it with you.”

Cas smiled now, fully, almost the way he had that day in the Bunker when he’d confessed his feelings, but brighter. Oh, so much brighter, and God was it a beautiful thing to see. “So yes, I gave up my Grace and became human. And at first, doing so scared the shit out of me, and I wondered if I’d made the right decision. Because while I was fairly certain that you felt the same for me as I did for you, I honestly doubted if you’d ever allow yourself to admit to it.” He laughed at the absurdity of the notion, shaking his head at himself. “But you have. And now I know that we  _ can _ have a life, a  _ real  _ life, together. I have to be human to do that. I want to grow old with you, Dean, not stay unchanged as time passes and takes you from me forever.”

Dean’s head spun as the meaning of those words sank in.  _ A life together. A real life. _ Already he knew that Jack had done away with the monsters he’d spent a lifetime hunting. All except those fully committed to not hunting humans... all of them were gone. They had no place in this New World. For the first time in their lives, the Winchester Brothers were free from the Family Business and could literally do anything they wanted. 

And Dean wanted this.  _ Fuck  _ did he want it, more than he knew was possible to want anything. Once upon a time he’d played at wanting it, with Lisa and Ben, and he  _ had _ loved her. But that had been a different time, under different circumstances, and Dean knew without a moment of doubt that what he felt now for Cas outshone what he’d felt for her a million times over. He hadn’t  realized how the silence had stretched on between them until Cas spoke again.

“This is normally where a conversation partner would say something, Dean,” he pointed out, a slight edge of worry under toning the teasing intent of the words. “I kind of just... put it all out there, and the Empty isn’t coming to get me this time. No ‘saved by the bell’ here....”

Hoping the  expression he gave looked as sheepish as he felt, Dean smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, babe,” he apologized, not even realizing the endearment had slipped in there. “Got lost in the thought of how incredible it all sounds. Knowing there’s no more battles to fight, no more waiting for the second shoe to drop, no more wondering what the hell’s coming for us next. Just a chance to spend the rest of my life telling you what I should’ve been saying all along – that I love you, I always have. That I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it.”

And then, before he could continue... he yawned. But instead of being upset by this, Cas laughed.

“Wow. I have to say, Dean Winchester, you really know how to make a guy feel the love!” Dean opened his mouth to apologize, but Cas just smiled. “It’s ok, I know you must be exhausted.”

“Sorry, Cas,” Dean still apologized, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I haven’t been sleeping much since.... Well. I haven’t been sleeping much, and that was a long damn drive from Lebanon.”

“Same, minus the drive.” Quieting a moment, Cas rose from his seat, tipping his head slightly in that way he always did. “Come to bed with me, Dean. Literally to sleep, for now and... for more, after.”

The words were barely out of Cas’ mouth and Dean was on his feet. “Don’t have to ask me twice,” he smirked. “On either account.” There may have been an eyeroll from Cas, but Dean didn’t care. “Lead on!”

Soon, they had entered the snug little bedroom of the casita, decorated in vibrant colors typical of the Southwest. The bed, still rumpled from the previous night, looked more inviting than any bed ever had. Glancing away from it, he caught Cas unfastening the buttons of his own cardigan, and Dean lightly batted his hands away, replacing them with his own. “Nuh-uh, nope, you are  _ not _ doing that yourself,” he teased with a grin, chin cocked up in challenge as he gazed down at Cas through his lashes. “You do  _ not _ get to take away my first chance at undressing you when you’re not half dead or smashed out of your mind!”

Scoffing at this, Cas didn’t hesitate to mimic Dean’s stance, hands sliding up Dean’s chest to shoulders, easing the flannel back and down his arms. “Excuse me, but I think  _ I’ve _ done that for  _ you  _ far more often than the reverse!”

“Pfft, that’s only cause you’re a tougher sonofabitch than me. I was  _ way _ easier to kick the shit out of, Mr. I Was an Angel of the Lord!” Dean tossed aside the cardigan and grinned wider to see Cas’ eyes narrow into that little squint of his. 

“Hmph. Got smashed out of your mind more often as well,” Cas huffed. “Mr. I’d Rather Drink My Feelings Than Express Them.” Cas tugged Dean’s  t-shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside as casually as Dean had the cardigan.

“Ouch. Words hurt, Cas.” Dean feigned indignance only long enough to repay the favor with Cas’ t-shirt, then reached for the button of his jeans, pausing to ask “You commando or...?” with an arched brow. A flush of color rose in Cas’ cheeks.

“Um, no,” he responded, almost shyly. “Boxers.”

“Yeah, same.” Cas seemed... relieved at this. Ok, slow going then. That was cool by Dean. “We can leave them on, Cas, it’s ok. I know this is all new to you. We take this at your speed, 100%.”

Cas’ relief at this statement was palpable. “Thank you, Dean,” he murmured softly, fingers working at the button and fly before working the stiff denim down Dean’s hips. “I don’t mean to act like such a blushing virgin. I  _ want  _ to be with you, I do. I just....”

Kicking off his shoes, Dean wiggled the jeans the rest of the way down his legs and stepped out of them. As Cas tried to explain, Dean caught his face in his palms, raising it to look into those light-filled eyes. “Cas, listen to me,” he began, gentle but firm. “You don’t have to justify your feelings on this. Not to me. Yeah, I’ve slept with dudes and you haven’t. Big fucking deal. I’ve never been  _ in a relationship _ with any of them, and I sure as shit have never been  _ in love with _ any of them. So, in a lot of ways? This is all new to me too.” Leaning in, he pressed a lingering kiss to those deliciously full lips, letting their noses brush lightly before pulling back. “We take this slow, like I said. Step by step. We have the rest of our lives to get to where we  wanna be. Ok?” Cas nodded his assent. “Ok, good. Now, I was promised a nap, so let’s get to it.”

Moving to the bed, Dean took a moment to straighten out the sheets and lightweight down comforter that were crumpled together. He then carefully folded them back and slid into the bed, arms outstretched and hands beckoning for Cas to join him. “C’mon, beautiful,” he smiled. “Bring it on in.”

Complying with a little laugh, Cas settled into the bed, only hesitating the briefest moment before pressing close to Dean’s side. Nothing had ever felt so amazing to Dean as having this familiar but not weight rest against him, and he wrapped Cas up in his arms. “ So you never did tell me,” he yawned, pulling the blanket up over them as Cas nuzzled against his chest. “Why Taos?”

Chuckling, Cas threaded a leg between Dean’s. “Once, several years ago, I had decided to go searching for God. You told me ‘Try New Mexico, I heard he’s on a tortilla.’ Of course, I didn’t understand what you meant, but for some reason, New Mexico stuck with me. So, when Jack asked where he should leave me, I told him New Mexico. It was the first thing that came to mind.”


End file.
